


Crushing

by yeaka



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-24 01:25:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16170758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Axel sees a rare glimpse of invigorated Demyx.





	Crushing

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kingdom Hearts or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

At one time in his ‘life,’ Axel wouldn’t care how late his partner was for a mission, because it’s not like he had anything better to do than skulk around some other world’s empty streets. But then Roxas came along, and Xion by extension, and the bizarrely delightful dessert that is sea-salt ice cream. Now he actually has a reason to get down to business and finish up as soon as possible. So by the time the whirling black portal finally parts the air, Axel’s quite annoyed at it.

Demyx steps out, which explains things: he shouldn’t have expected their laziest member to arrive on time. If anything, Axel’s surprised Demyx wasn’t later. Even more surprising is the grin on Demyx’s face. He gives Axel a half-wave and chirps, “Hey, man. Ready to work?”

Axel tilts his head, lifting one red brow, and asks, “Are _you_?”

“You kidding?” Demyx laughs, like this job is as precious to him as his sitar. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day!”

Realistically, Axel should just grunt ‘cool’ and get on with it. But it’s just too weird not to comment. “You. Looking forward. To _work_.”

“In Traverse Town, hell yeah.” He even winks. 

“You hit your head or something?”

Demyx doesn’t answer that one. His eyes go suddenly wide, evidently spotting something over Axel’s shoulder, and before Axel has time to look, Demyx is grabbing his arm and hurriedly pulling him over into the alley. Axel’s dragged against the brick wall, while Demyx takes a breath and cautiously peeks around the corner. Axel _knows_ they’re not supposed to let anyone see them, but it still happens every now and then, and it’s extremely unusual for Demyx to be proactive about work policies. 

Axel follows Demyx’s gaze around the corner, but there’s nothing particularly special about the brunet that’s just emerged from the third district. He’s taken only a few steps into the open square, then paused to heft his enormous sword over one shoulder, face far-off and deep in thought. His black pants and jacket and silver chains are vaguely reminiscent of the Organization’s colours, but the stark white of his shirt ruins the effect. Patches of reds and browns show in his too-many belts, and there’s a pink scar across his face. 

Overall, nothing worth staring at. Axel has to prod, “What’re we looking at?”

Demyx wistfully sighs, “He’s such a _hottie_.”

“Pfft.” Axel actually snorts. He rolls his eyes even though Demyx isn’t looking.

“What? He is! ...Just look at those muscles...” Demyx gestures with one glove-covered hand at the object of his interest, but it doesn’t help explain things. The man _does_ have a fairly toned body, even sporting belts looped around his biceps to highlight their girth, but he’s far from the strongest man Axel’s ever seen. Laxaeus is probably bigger. Then again, Laxaeus is also uglier.

They’re both unattainable, and Axel knocks his knuckles lightly against Demyx’s forehead, whistling, “Hello, you don’t have a heart, remember?”

“So?” Axel doesn’t even need to elaborate, because Demyx adds for him, “Hey, I know it couldn’t work, but I can still look, right?”

Not on Axel’s time. “Do it later—”

“What kind of music do you think he’s into?”

With an exasperated sigh, Axel quips, “I don’t know, probably stuff played by _real_ people with feelings.”

Demyx finally looks back at Axel, his face in a vaguely adorable pout. “You’re such a killjoy.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Before the second ‘yeah’ is even out of his mouth, Axel hears the familiar dithering walk of a shadow. Sure enough, when he looks down the alleyway, two dark figures are crawling out from under a stack of barrels. Flicking his fingers to summon a spark of fire, he tells his partner, “Come on, tiger; it’s time to get some work done.”

Demyx whines but summons his sitar. 

He’ll probably never know the depth of Axel’s hypocrisy: there’s no time to stargaze, because Axel has his own date to attend. And he knows better than anyone the dangers of playing pretend with _feelings_.


End file.
